I think I slept with a monster
I don’t think I’m ever drinking this much again. Let me begin by saying that I’m not usually someone who goes out often for Happy Ts, or bar-hopping adventures until my friends and I pass out from all the alcohol. As much as it’s tempting to adopt that lifestyle, I know I can’t really afford to have too much fun. Especially now that it’s senior year. It’s make or break and I don’t really want to let my mother or my younger sister down. Which is why I can’t really tell anybody about this. And now that it’s posted, I probably won’t be able to tell anyone else either because I don’t know what the fuck that was but I sure as hell know it’s going to find me eventually. If you’re still reading, there’s still hope. I’m going to need all the luck I can get. It was an amazing Friday. I admittedly know a lot and are close to tons of people, but my circle is relatively small, comprising only of four other people, but man, were we tight. We even had our own secret dumb name just for the sake of it, and we were always down to accompany each other anywhere; especially if it was an invitation to get wild. As I said, it was a Friday, and I only had one week left to go before we had our term break. Almost all five of us had light workloads, nothing that couldn’t be done on the weekend, so we all decided through text that we’d celebrate the sweet release of not having to be bombarded by requirements. There was an easy mood over all of us, and I won’t deny I was feeling it most of all. I even got dressed for the occasion, complete with this amazing, form-fitting dress I had never used before. Not that I was hoping to snag somebody, mind you. The night was young, and we had decided to go to a club complete with the loud electronic music and whatnot. You’d usually find us in a coffee shop or bookstore but not tonight. It was our Friday, and it was finally a chance to get loose and just go batshit crazy and have fun without worrying if we needed to pass something later. I know, I know, we were nerds, but that was exactly we were trying to address that night. We aren’t always trying to cozy up to the professor for extra grades. We had lives too. We wanted to know what it was like for the average college student to just wild out. Pretty soon, almost all of us were plastered. Two of my friends were grinding on the dance floor, drinks in their hands, and one was unsuccessfully trying to flirt with the bartender by flashing some cleavage. I didn’t even know what happened to the other one. My head hurts just remembering it. The lights, the sounds, dear God, the alcohol—I didn’t find a sensory overload exactly fun, so I tried to shake some of the discomfort out by dancing on my own by my friends. Hey, it didn’t hurt to try, right? Plus, it would be hours before somebody would try to ask the others if they could call it a night. Might as well make the most of my time here. Immediately I regretted dancing when a man, looking much older, complete with a five o’clock shadow and wisps of silver in his hair approached me. I clearly remember the obnoxious smirk on his face as he made his way through the crowd. Oh, jeez. Another creep. Slowly, he leans in to whisper in my ear. “I bet you’re new here.” The oiliness of his voice is enough to make even me, my thoughts clouded in a vodka-induced haze, shiver inwardly. But because I’m so fucking close to getting wasted, I can’t really say or do anything except make a face of disgust. Aside from that, I’m frozen. I don’t know what to do. My friends are lost, and this dress isn’t doing me any favors. A sudden wave of claustrophobia sends me reeling and I have to get out of the crowd, feeling as if they were pushing me around and the walls were closing in around me. I turn around and try to run out, but the man grips my arm like a vise. I can’t break free. I can’t even cry out because it’d only be drowned in the music. Before I can even bring up my foot to kick him in the groin a much taller, slimmer figure comes to my aid and pushes the guy away, and the sheer force of the push makes him let go of my arm. It seems as if the man is absolutely drunk too, I don’t know, it’s all happening too fast—forgive me for the messy recollection. I’m really a virgin when it comes to drinking—but despite all the activity happening around me there’s one little detail I can’t forget: this new girl’s wearing glasses. Yeah, my savior was a fellow woman. She had a short haircut reminiscent of those K-pop boys I’d see a lot in social media, and she looked a little bit lost in the nightclub wearing a scarlet hoodie. She’d fit in a Tiktok video or something, maybe, but not in the midst of all these people decked in skimpy dresses and shirts with buttons halfway open. She stood out, but weirdly enough, nobody seemed to notice, save for myself. “You okay?” My vision is fuzzy at this point, but I’m pretty sure she just extended a hand. I try to focus on her face more. I can’t. I’m not even capable of formulating a solid thought. All that’s banging in my head right now is: thank her. “You’re cute.” The words stumble out of my mouth before I know it. “And I just saved your life.” But she’s smiling. I try to approach and thank her but I trip, and she catches me in the last minute. “Woah.” “You’re hot.” “You’re too drunk to walk.” “Not too drunk.” I can’t stop what I’m saying at this point. It’s as if my soul has separated from my body and I’m just watching myself sabotage my own chances of getting laid by anyone tonight. She seems interested enough, and there was definitely something in all those shots that made me blank out and think not with what was above, but what was below. “Let’s get you out of here.” The small smile on her face seems defeated, as if I said no. I didn’t. “You’re coming with me? I want to...thank you.” And thank her I did. — — Now, I won’t go into the details of what happens next because funnily enough, it’s a blackout from there. But at this point, know that the woman was nice enough to leave me with such amazing memories of a hookup that I tried to find her afterwards. Despite the long night, I had only gotten her number and no other contact details in my rush to get back to my friends, who were at the verge of calling the police to find me. Apparently, I had disappeared after one of them last saw me being harassed by the other guy and thought I had been turned into a grilled meal. “And you didn’t think to follow me.” “Well, we...had a feeling you got laid, but you weren’t responding to any of our texts, so...” I sighed. No use crying over spilled milk. After three long days of thinking about this girl, I decided to try and ask for help from one of my friends who had more connections than I did. Apparently, the girl was from another branch of our college, and was known to be quite aloof and cold towards others. Which was such a far cry from the knight in shining armor last Friday who smiled at me and gave me a good time, mind you, but I just decided to chalk the ‘aloof and cold’ description up to the usual extremities of gossip. After all, it was too late to back out out of liking this cute girl. I eventually found myself at back at her apartment after finishing my last class, which ended at 9:00 PM; I just couldn’t get this woman out of my mind, her messy hair, that hot night, all those lights in the bar and the way they seemed to shine towards her but had nothing to say because she was the brightest light of them all—I was going crazy about her. I just had to know if she felt the same way. Why else would she have agreed to take me home? I knocked on her door, hopeful. What I was about to say couldn’t merely be expressed correctly in text or call. No answer. I realized I seemed like a delusional stalker, but I had no intention of following her around this much. I just wanted to get the feeling off of my chest, because I didn’t want anything stressing me out during term break, especially not feelings. I knocked another time. “Hi, Mila? It’s—” Suddenly, there was a shriek coming from the roof. Mila lived on the highest floor of her apartment, and it only took one staircase to reach the roof. My blood slowly started to turn cold as I realized I haven’t seen any signs of life or people living on the floor since I stepped out of the elevator. I was so wrapped around confessing like a vapid anime girl in a shoujo manga that I failed to notice that the roof door was slightly open, letting in a cool night breeze. I wasn’t risking my life for another fun night. I pressed the elevator, but somehow, the door wouldn’t open. The button seemed to be jammed, and no matter how hard I pressed it, nothing. I tried the emergency staircase. No luck. The doorknob was locked, and I was too scared to try and slam open the door for fear of the noise attracting whatever could possibly be out there. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. There was nothing, no killer, no ghost, the doors were just jammed and I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was the price to pay for being obsessive. There was one last resort, and it was the fire exit. It could only be accessed by going through the roof and climbing down thirteen floors, and it was probably dusty, but it was better than being stuck alone in a ghost floor and waiting for Mila to return. My heart raced as I opened the roof door completely and walked out into the night. There were no lights, and the only source of illumination was from the city skyline—save for one flickering lamp that stood above the fire exit. Thank God. Freedom at last. As I tried my best to walk fast enough to the stairs without making a noise, I mumbled promises to myself to never be too attached to a mere one-night stand ever again no matter how charming when out of the corner of my eye, I spot something just barely out of the radius of the flickering lamp. Something inside of me told me to go nearer, but my senses won over. This wasn’t my territory. I wasn’t about to die here. This was Mila’s home. Where was she? Taking slow, tentative steps towards the object, I called her. A muffled, loud sound came from the object. I backed away, heart thumping in my chest, clutching my phone for dear life as I prayed Mila would answer before the noises from the object got louder. As I waited, I noticed the rings from the phone were in sync with the object’s noises. What? My hands shook. I turned on the phone flashlight and shined it on the object. The sight of the lower human torso greeted me, standing upright despite the lack of a stomach or anything above. The sound was coming from the right pocket of all-too familiar skin-tight jeans, accompanied by a buzzing sound. I couldn’t help but cry out, nearly dropping my phone. Where was the rest of Mila’s body? Why was it still standing? What the fuck happened? Before I could look around, another noise became more audible: the flapping of wings in the night, much bigger than any city bird. I wasn’t going to wait until whatever was the source of the sound came, so I jumped to the fire exit and ran downstairs, as far away as my legs could carry me—until I finally reached a convenience store, panting. Right now, it’s 12:36 AM over here, three hours since I last saw that fucking thing. The cashier has gone to take a cigarette break, and the other customer left fifteen minutes ago. I can’t go out this close to the apartment, but I’m waiting on one of my friends to come pick me up. None of them have replied so far, and my data’s running low. I really hope this makes it here. All of you have got to help me. I’ve received no reply. Only a few missed calls from Mila. Category:Fanfic Category:Creepypasta